There are two riders on horseback with them—both of whom I recognize immediately.
Nathaniel tenses beside me as Christiana and Hagan ride toward us despite the threat of the armies on either side of them.
They slow their horses as they draw nearer, stopping clear of the Vanem Dragon’s position before they dismount. The horses are skittish, but Christiana hands her horse’s reins to Hagan, who calms both animals while Christiana strides toward us.
She’s dressed in her armor, her hair braided. She looks tired and drawn, but her expression is open, the press of her lips hopeful as she pauses to bow to the Vanem Dragon before she walks directly toward Nathaniel.
“Brother.” She takes a knee, bowing her head to him.
Farther behind her, Hagan also looks tired, making me doubt he slept after we left the Bitter Patch this morning. He won’t have had any rest since yesterday. He’s wearing the same slightly too small clothes, but he’s carrying more weapons than when we last saw him. His lips are drawn into the same unforgiving line, the look of a warrior that Nathaniel wears. His perceptive gaze passes across me, pauses, then takes in my glow, my bright eyes, before he moves on to the armies around us. Finally, his attention returns to Christiana, watching over her.
Nathaniel’s forehead creases, wary as he considers first Hagan and then his sister, waiting for her to speak.
She takes a deep breath without raising her eyes, her head still bowed. “Nathaniel, you honored our father by carrying out his wishes. You lived your life as he taught you. But I… was afraid and lost. And so… so angry.”
She swallows. Pauses. Takes another deep breath. “You asked me to decide who I am and what I stand for,” she says, raising her eyes to his. “I’ve come here to tell you that I stand for you, for my brother who was meant to be King.”
Cyrian takes a threatening step forward as she speaks, but Christiana casts him a sharp glance. He is bound never to touch her again and the frustration on his face is fierce. Dark light increases around his fingertips, but he doesn’t release it.
Christiana rises to her feet. “We have come here to fight beside you,” she says to Nathaniel. “All of us. If you need us.” She gestures to the human army behind her before she turns to me. “We want to fight beside you and Aura. If you’ll let us.”
Pain strikes through my chest. Christiana is a proud and stubborn woman. I understood her motivations when she acted to protect her people this morning. I hated the pain it caused me—and the conflict between her and Nathaniel—but before I met Nathaniel, I would not have treated a human any better than she treated me.
Now she has offered to support Nathaniel and me.
It’s… too late for me, but Nathaniel will need her help to defeat Cyrian once the Law of Champions is decided. He will need to act quickly, a challenge for the throne that must be swift and precise.
Nathaniel considers her carefully, his astute gaze passing across her open expression before he leans forward to grip her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I can’t ask you to forgive me, but—”
“I do,” Nathaniel says, the merciless line of his mouth softening.
She blinks rapidly. Bites her lip. “Then we’ll be waiting and ready when you need us.”
Behind her, Hagan gives me a nod and I return it with a small smile, grateful that he will be there for Nathaniel when I’m gone.
Gratitude is the strangest emotion to feel for a hunter who imprisoned me, but Hagan and I understand what we each need to do.
He knows that the fight for the Fell throne will be furious once I’m dead.
Chapter 23
Hagan’s lips hitch up into a wonky half-smile, a rare and unexpected sight before he tips his head at me and turns away, choosing to walk between Christiana and the hunters until she reaches her horse and they ride back to the human army.
I sense Nathaniel’s worry as he glances between me and his departing sister, but his expression hardens when I turn fully in his direction.
He looks at me now the way I want him to—as a warrior.
The Vanem Dragon remained silent throughout the whole exchange. Now, he lowers his head to us again. “Before the fight begins, the champions have the right to walk with me and ask anything they need to know. They may not be separated from each other’s sight, but their conversation with me will be private.” He looks to each of us. “Do you wish to walk with me?”
“Yes.” Nathaniel’s response is so immediate, his glance at me so fierce, that I shiver. He clearly has something he wants to ask the dragon in private but I’m not sure what it could be.
“Aura?” the dragon asks me.
“Yes,” I say, feeling more uncertain than I have for hours. “I want to walk with you.”
“Very well,” the dragon says. “The monarchs will now step back. The fight will begin once the champions have spoken with me. Aura will walk with me first.”
Despite the dragon’s order to step back, Imatra gives me a hard glare, her mask of control slipping. She has played so many games with my life that I wonder if she even has the capacity to see that she created her own worst enemy.
“Remember who you fight for, Aura,” she snarls. “You are bound to me in duty and honor. You will kill the Fell creature for me.”
I step up to her, unafraid. I see through all of her faces now—the benevolent leader, the conspiring fae, the cruel weaver of dark magic—to the frightened and desperate woman she is beneath.
Lowering my voice to a careful murmur, I say, “I will do nothing for you, Imatra of the Solstice. I will do only what is right for the people of Bright and Fell.”
Her hand snakes out to grab my arm, her fingernails biting against my armor, her ruby-red lips pressed together so tightly that they become bloodless. “You will kill him.”
My voice is a mere breath of sound. “If you believe that I could ever kill the man I love, then you’re the one without a heart.”
With a sharp breath, she lets me go. Her glare fills with loathing and resentment before she smooths out her features, pasting over her stormy emotions with an expression of supreme control before she glides away with her guards.
Cyrian takes several backward steps, still facing forward, dark light glimmering around his form, sparking in the moonlight. Unlike Imatra, he remains silent before he turns on his heel and stalks away.
With a final glance at Nathaniel, I move to the dragon’s side, feeling very small beside the giant beast.
Nathaniel remains behind, a solitary figure in the middle of the field as I hurry to keep up with the dragon’s large steps.
The Vanem Dragon exhales a sigh into the night air, the warmth of his breath comforting me. The armies are quiet on either side of us and the humans are silent ahead of us, but it will only take a spark to light up the tension around us.
“Nobody can hear us now, Aura,” the dragon says. “The Law of Champions gives me a very small amount of control over what happens between now and your fight with Nathaniel. The old magic came alive when you and Nathaniel were sealed, and it has rested inside my heart since then. I can use it now to give you peace, comfort, or advice. This is your chance to speak your heart, to voice your final words. If you wish, you can give me permission to repeat what you say in the instance of your death.”